Offering Thanks for What This Strange Year in Golf Will Give Us in 2023
It doesn’t come with a Good Friday or a Black Friday, making it free of religious connotations and commercial contamination. It wasn’t named after a saint or conceived to honor a specific group of people, nor does it get moved to a Monday by a decree from the federal government.
Family, turkey, football. If that’s all some of us could ask for out of life, the growth of the nation in which Thanksgiving was born is the very reason we can expect so much more. The fourth Thursday in November endures as a timeless celebration of America’s appreciation, barely wavering in its roots and remaining no less relevant in purpose since its unofficial origin in the early 17th century.
From an ideological sense, one might even view Thanksgiving as the last holiday still standing. Not that it’s more important than Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa, bigger than Memorial Day or every bit as sacred as Easter/Passover. Every specially recognized date on the calendar deserves a circle around it. Every holiday matters, some to greater effect than others.
In an age when the ring of a cellphone has replaced “Jingle Bells” as the anthem of the season, an age in which our economy hinges considerably on how much merchandise can be sold in the final six weeks of the year, Thanksgiving has never lost touch with its soul. It is secular but highly spiritual, governed by the goodness of mankind rather than priests or politicians, an American institution but available to any country willing to embrace the simple premise of gratitude.
In both name and nuance, Thanksgiving has always been true to its word.
From here, a segue to the game of golf feels clumsy, perhaps even inappropriate. Especially in the wake of a reviled nation’s invasion of the PGA Tour’s seemingly perfect world—a raid successful enough to jolt the sport’s highest level at its competitive core. For all the outrage over Saudi Arabia’s attempt to renovate its global image through the formation of LIV Golf or its unconscionable method of luring players with copious signing bonuses, could there possibly be an upside in all this madness?
Well, yes.
Barring a wholesale embargo on those who defected to the rival league, the four major championships will further separate themselves from every other event on the schedule, simply by providing us with our only opportunities to see all the best players at one venue. Factor in the crucible of big-game pressure and the belief that LIV Golf’s no-cut, paid-up-front format can only weaken a man’s competitive tenacity. ... We’re talking about a chance to view the game’s most important events through a very different lens.

It may not be something many golf fans would consider worthy of thanks, but it will be different, and in this case, different means interesting. One has to figure that the Tour began applying pressure to those four governing bodies months ago, attempting to dissuade them from allowing the rebels to participate. Such an abolition would be a huge mistake. Financial gain and heightened interest levels are two excellent reasons to let them play.
Not that any of the four organizations suffer from an inability to make money, or that the Tour has (or will) struggle even a little bit due to the loss of a dozen or so prominent members. For every big name that has departed, five bright young stars will emerge. The ramped-up purses and creation of “super events” in 2023 virtually guarantee that all top-tier performers will show up at the same tournaments on a more frequent basis; Camp Ponte Vedra’s overall product will emerge stronger than ever. You may not care much for guys duking it out over $20 million in prize money, but the exorbitant payouts will translate directly into star-studded fields and a brand of Sunday afternoon brilliance that led us to watch high-profile golf in the first place.
Just another reason to toast the impact of the Saudis, right? Speaking of first place, a super-event victory will be worth around $4 million. If such a rose-colored theory doesn’t exactly qualify as conventional wisdom, it is something to chew on while you shovel 600 calories of stuffing down your gullet Thursday afternoon.
As for short-term gratification, it’s worth noting that Tiger Woods will be teeing it up for the masses on three different occasions between now and Dec. 18. After playing his own ball at the Hero World Challenge, Woods and Rory McIlroy will square off against Justin Thomas and Jordan Spieth in the latest version of “The Match,” which might draw 10 times more viewers than the Bryson DeChambeau-vs.-Brooks Koepka fiasco a couple of summers ago.
Just a few days later, Woods and his son Charlie will wrap up 2022 by returning to the PNC Championship in Orlando. For all the anti-Tigers who grew sick and tired of the most dominant player ever hogging all the airtime throughout the first decade of the 21st century, this is your chance to forgive and not forget. Greatness may limp around, chunk a few chips and shoot more 78s than 68s nowadays, but it never goes out of style.
Neither does the fourth Thursday in November.
